


Little Dove

by twinkhemmings



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Jason Gideon, Oblivious Spencer Reid, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protective BAU Team (Criminal Minds), Secret Relationship, Series, Smut, Spencer Reid Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkhemmings/pseuds/twinkhemmings
Summary: Diana had always called Spencer her ‘little dove’ – her fragile baby bird with a brain full of wonder and a heart full of love.-Diana's little dove appears to be completely oblivious to the fact he's being dating his boss for several months.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 15
Kudos: 82





	1. Nasties

**Author's Note:**

> * Complete for now, but I'm writing some more ideas to add to this series! * 
> 
> This the start of a new series and it is my first in this fandom! I will be writing this as I go along, so please don't panic if the chapters are sometimes a bit far apart - I am trying my hardest!
> 
> I can't wait to see what you guys make of this. Hotch and Reid are my favourite relationship ever, so I am really excited for this series to blossom. Any feedback is hugely appreciated! 🥰

_ Little Dove: _

Spencer’s mother had always called him her ‘little dove’ – her fragile baby bird with a brain full of wonder and a heart full of love. Diana sought to protect her little dove’s heart by shielding him from harm, doting on him whenever possible, and hiding him from the cruel world she saw as destined to hurt him.

From as young as he could remember, Diana tried to protect him from what she called the ‘nasties’ in the world. These ‘nasties’ were anything from a stranger in the street, a cat in the yard, or what Spencer called the ‘invisible’ nasties: the nasties only Diana could see. However, one of Reid’s biggest fears was that the ‘invisible’ nasties stopped being invisible – Schizophrenia is largely genetic after all.

Spencer quickly learnt that the easiest way to ease his mother’s anxiety surrounding his fragility was to pretend that everything was ok. By swallowing his anxieties, nervousness and fragilities, Spencer could ease his mother’s mind whilst also trying to convince _himself_ that he was fine.

Spencer easily recalls an instance where he was stripped naked and tied to a goalpost in front of other students at school, left exposed and fragile to the elements. After waiting for all the other teenagers to leave, he walked home, only to find that Diana hadn’t noticed that he was hours late home from school, her schizophrenic episode being all-encompassing and clouding her perception of reality. Spencer quickly hid his trauma, swallowed his pride, choked down his tears and cracked a smile at his delusional mother.

Instances of bullying in his youth only sought to improve his ability to suppress, repress, and move on. As such, Spencer had never really considered himself a fragile individual; proving his ability to adapt to his mother’s ill-health, lack of father figure, childhood bullying, and overcome an addiction all of his own volition. Spencer liked to think of himself as independent, strong, capable and proud, but what Spencer failed to realise was that his boss and colleague, Aaron Hotchner, profiled Reid from the day he walked into the BAU and instantly saw the fragility masked behind his genius persona and rambling speeches.

Hotch never meant to find himself constantly profiling and re-profiling the young SSA, his eyes nearly always sneaking a look at Reid in the private jet when the others were asleep. Hotch never meant to find himself listening with earnest whenever Reid spoke, his heart swelling with pride as Spencer became more and more confident in his role at the BAU. Hotch never meant to find himself falling in love with a man almost half his age, but then again, how could one _not_ fall in love with Spencer Reid?

-

The thing Aaron loved most about Reid was his obliviousness. His obliviousness to the fact that he is a crucial member of the team, his obliviousness as to his devilishly good looks, but most of all, his obliviousness to the fact that he had been dating Hotch for nearly six months. Late night shifts just the two of them in the office, the last-minute coffee shop visits, the fact that Reid had tucked Jack into bed on at least five occasions before sleeping in Hotch’s bed. Hotch found it mind-boggling that the young self-professed genius had failed to notice he was _dating his boss_.

-

“You’re seeing someone” Diana professed, not even looking at Spencer as she carefully folded a napkin for the sixth time in a row, her fingers delicately folding the corners as she watched the material intently.

“What, no I’m not?” Spencer proclaimed, his brow furrowing as he looked at his mother with confusion.

“Then why are you so quiet? You’re never this quiet” Diana mused, tearing her attention away from her napkins to look her son straight in the eye.

“I’m not quiet” Spencer mumbled, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Little dove, you can babble up to a thousand words a minute, you are almost _definitely_ being quiet” she continued to challenge, raising her eyebrow as she continued to stare at him.

“I’m not _really_ seeing someone; I wouldn’t call it that” he mumbled, his words almost inaudible if Diana had not been listening to intently.

“Then what would you call it?” Diana persisted, sitting back and closing her hands in her lap, “And you have a hickey behind your ear you’ve been trying to hide since you walked in.”

Spencer flushed and instinctively raised his hand to touch behind his ear, his cheeks burning crimson as he finally realised his mother had caught him out. ‘Why does she have to be so fucking observant’ he thought.

“I – I don’t know mom, but I’m not in a relationship” Reid stammered, his cheeks continuing to burn as he tried his darndest not to look at his mother, her eyes desperately seeing his throughout the conversation.

“You don’t have to tell me Spencer, you’re not a child anymore” Diana hummed, reaching out to take Reid’s clammy hand to sooth his apparent nerves.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you” Spencer stated, squeezing her hand in response; “I just didn’t even realise that’s what _this_ was, and now I feel a bit stupid.”

-

_(The night before)_

Reid had found himself at Hotch’s once again, reading ‘ _Charlotte’s Web_ ’ to Jack before tucking him in and wishing him sweet dreams. Whilst closing the door to Jack’s room, Reid found his heart swell when he looked at the young boy, his brunette locks splayed on his pillow as he slept peacefully despite the traumas he’s suffered. Reid found himself recalling similar peaceful night’s sleep when he was Jack’s age, little Spencer drifting off to sleep after Diana had read him ‘ _The Book of Margery Kempe_ ’ – not exactly a light-hearted children’s book. Reid took some comfort in knowing that he had aided in Jack’s peaceful, childish obliviousness.

“He sleeps better than he did when he was a baby when you read to him” Hotch mused, startling Reid slightly as the two of them looked at Jack through the slight crack in the door.

Reid smiled gently, tearing his gaze from Jack to look at Hotch. Reid felt a twang of endearment in Hotch’s voice, but the young profiler tried to suppress that thought, trying to protect himself from _feeling_ anything – this little dove didn’t want to get hurt.

“He’s an amazing kid, Hotch” Spencer mused, smiling gently at the older man, “But I don’t need to tell you that.”

“It’s always nice to hear it though, every parent likes validation” Hotch chuckled, finally reaching the handle to Jack’s door and closing it softly as not to disturb him.

“Human’s like validation, it makes us feel worthy” Reid mused, shrugging his shoulders to emphasise his point.

Hotch swallowed a lump in his throat, his immediate response about to be _“you are so worthy, Spencer”_ , but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it yet.

“That’s true” Hotch went for instead, his throat tight as the young profiler leant back against the hallway wall, his eyes looking softly at Hotch’s face; “We all have something we should feel worthy about, it’s just whether we can see what that thing is” he continued, his body only a mere step away from pressing Spencer against the beige hallway wall.

“Well, you should know that you are more than worthy of Jack’s love. You’re an amazing dad” Spencer hummed, diverting his eyes towards his own feet as he fought the crimson colour rising on his cheeks; “You should never doubt your ability to parent, Hotch, you’ve done so much for him” he continued, swallowing thickly as their eyes finally met.

“You’re worthy of his love too, Spencer. You’ve brought so much kindness into his life, especially recently” Hotch stated, his body drawn towards Spencer’s smaller frame as though magnetised, “You’ve filled a huge void in his life and you don’t even realise it” he chuckled, the younger man’s cheeks flushing a bright red once again.

“Thanks, Hotch” Spencer hummed, his nervousness creeping in as he stepped away from the wall and about half a foot from Hotch, coughing as though to diffuse to instant awkwardness between them.

“I, uh, need to get home” Spencer began to ramble as he walked away from Hotch to gather his things from the living room; “I’ve started a new book and it is really gripping, I think maybe you’d like it, it’s, um, it’s about an FBI agent who works in New York. It really is so funny to read books that are entirely inaccurate about the Bureau and –”

Before he could avoid it like he did in the hallway, Spencer found his hand being grabbed and his body being spun around, his small frame now pressed against the living room wall as Hotch stepped into his personal space once again.

“Please don’t go, Spencer” Hotch prayed, his eyes looking intently at the younger profiler, “I can’t let you keep running away from me.”

Spencer felt his internal walls crumbling down, his fragility beginning to creep through his fingertips that clung to Hotch like a lifeline, his heart beginning to thud in his chest and Spencer didn’t like that: his heart wasn’t _allowed_ to feel because feelings meant vulnerability and vulnerability meant heartbreak.

Spencer tried to find the right words – any words in fact – but he just looked at Hotch like a deer in headlights, his head screaming at him to _get out_ as his heart continued to thump so loudly that he could almost _hear it_. Spencer wasn’t oblivious to Hotch’s feelings like the older man thought, he was just terrified to admit that he was _dating_ and _feeling_.

Rather than listening to the alarms ringing in his head, Spencer whispered ‘ok’ before letting Hotch catch his lips in a desperate kiss, the blood thumping and whooshing through his ears, his hands desperately clinging to the white undershirt Hotch was wearing as though he would somehow _disappear_ if he let go.

This wasn’t the first kiss between the two profilers, their first kiss had been desperate and needy in Hotch’s office at 11:38pm on a Tuesday – Spencer remembered _exactly_ ) – their hands clinging to any part of the other’s body; fingers scraping scalps, shoulders, chests and necks as they gasped into each other’s mouths as though there was no air left in the room.

But this kiss felt different to the others. Spencer felt less oblivious in Hotch’s arms as the younger profiler kissed back just as fiercely and passionately as Hotch.

Spencer moved his hands from his sides and carded his fingers through Hotch’s hair, the older man sighing gently as Spencer caressed the back of his head, his fingers exploring Hotch’s hairline as he opened his mouth to allow Hotch to messily slide their tongues together. All technique was out the window, Spencer cooing as the older man moved his hands to cup his face, drawing Spencer even closer if that were physically possible.

“I don’t want to go” Spencer whimpered, his body relaxing in Hotch’s strong embrace, his head tilting to the side to allow Hotch’s tongue to abseil down his neck: nipping, licking, sucking and kissing the taut skin exposed to him, his nose brushing Spencer’s jaw and his breath heavy as he sought the soft skin behind his ear, a mewl escaping Reid as his eyes fluttered shut.

“You don’t have to” Hotch mused, his hands wrapping around Spencer’s waist as the pulled the young profiler ever closer, “You _never_ have to” he continued, a small, delicate moan escaping Spencer as Hotch sucked on the fleshy skin of his neck.

Spencer suppressed the little dove fluttering around his head – squawking at him to _run away_ – as he ran his hands down Hotch’s chest, seeking the hem of his t-shirt as he sought to remove the fabric, his hands quivering as he suddenly found himself trying to remove Hotch’s clothing at the speed of light.

Hotch didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s sudden request to remove his clothes, stepping back just enough to remove his undershirt before reaching and removing Spencer’s shirt. Hotch had spent the whole day hyper-aware of the fact that Spencer didn’t fasten the top _three_ buttons today, his mind wandering all day instead of concentrating on profiling.

Chests pressed together and hot skin burning as though they had been set alight, Spencer kissed feather-light kisses down Hotch’s jaw, the older man keening at the touch and an almost inaudible moan fluttering through his lips as the younger man ran his hands over the waistband of his suit trousers.

Spencer’s body was reacting to every little noise Hotch made, his mind compartmentalising the sound Hotch made when he plucked up the courage to gently kiss the older man’s collarbone, the sound boxed away in Spencer’s mind for when he needed to be reminded of what _pure adoration_ sounded like.

Hotch, however, didn’t like the current position where he was vulnerable and exposed to Reid’s touch as though he was a pubescent boy all over again.

Pushing Reid back against the wall, Hotch admired the dazed look on the younger man’s face, his curls wild and his chest heaving with every breath he took as he watched Hotch intently, trying to anticipate his next move. Hotch stepped closer to Reid and cupped his jaw, turning the younger man’s face to the side in a display of dominance, Spencer’s cock twitching in his too-tight work trousers as his head was held in place, the older man coaxing a moan out of him as he kissed fervently down Reid’s throat.

“I want you to feel worthy, Reid” Hotch hummed against his throat, his hand releasing some of the pressure from Reid’s jaw but not moving away, his warm palm cupping his face as he continued, “You’re always the one making me feel good” he whispered as he felt Reid’s body hum against him, the younger man’s breath catching in his throat as Hotch began to kiss down the middle of his chest, dropping to his knees in front of the young profiler, “It’s your turn.”

“Oh my god” Reid _thought_ he whispered, his voice obviously louder than intended as the older man smirked against his naval, the spotting of hair tickling his lips as he continued to kiss just above Reid’s waistband. Spencer really had to focus on remaining upright in this moment, his body heavy and warm as he threw his head back against the wall, hitting the surface with a soft thud. Spencer really couldn’t care less about the pain that struck when he threw his head back, his eyes fighting to stay open as he stared intently at the ceiling, his breathing audible as he allowed himself to focus on the feeling of Hotch slowly pulling down his trousers.

Prying his eyes away from the ceiling, Reid dared to look down at the older man below him. Reid regretted looking down as he saw Hotch release his cock from the confines of his navy briefs, his cock kicking gently against his naval as he saw the older man admire his body as though he were a three-course-meal.

“You’re so fucking pretty” Hotch groaned against Reid’s thigh, nipping the skin gently before moving slowly towards his cock, Reid’s breath caught in his throat as Hotch looked up at him through his dark eyelashes, his right hand moving to hold the bottom of Reid’s shaft.

Reid knew what to expect – it’s not like he hadn’t had his dick sucked before. What he didn’t expect, however, was how _fucking good_ Hotch was. His cock was being worshipped by the older man, his mouth tight and warm as he ran it up and down Reid’s shaft, soft noises escaping Reid as he splattered his hands flat against the wall in a weak attempt at holding himself up.

“Fuck” Spencer whimpered, a rare explicative tumbling from his mouth as though he had no control over it, holding his breath as the older man used his right hand to work the remaining shaft his wet mouth couldn’t reach, his other hand coming up to cup Reid’s ass cheek, the older man’s blunt nails biting into the pale skin of Spencer’s rear.

This is what Spencer imagined drowning felt like: gasps escaping his throat, his eyes slamming shut as he once again threw his head back, his chest heaving and his lungs _on fire_. He hadn’t even cum yet and he felt like he was already having an out-of-body experience, his heart pounding in his throat as his hips instinctively bucked forward into the wet cavern of Hotch’s mouth.

Just as he started to chase his high, Hotch pulled off with a pop, his saliva dripping down Spencer’s cock as a desperate whine escaped the younger profiler, his hips bucking the sudden cold air against his throbbing cock.

As though answering Reid’s prayers, the younger man gently whimpering ‘please’ over and over as though the only word he knew, Hotch took Reid into his mouth as far as he could, his hands going back to devilishly worship Reid’s shaft and balls, as Spencer’s legs began to shake, his high impending and his breath once again caught in his throat.

“Aaron, I’m gonna fucking _cum_ ” Reid whined like a desperate teenage boy, his eloquent vocabulary long forgotten as he allowed the fire to burn in his gut, his cock throbbing as the older man continued sucking, licking and humming gently on Reid’s over-stimulated cock.

The older man enveloped Spencer’s orgasm in the wet cavern of his mouth, his throat constricting around Reid’s shaft as he closed his eyes and swallowed, allowing Reid to buck instinctively as he rode his high. Spencer clamped his hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle his stream of whimpers and high-pitched moans, conscious of the child only down the hall as his skin prickled with electricity, the blood whooshing in his ears as he came down from his high, his legs weak as he tried to hold himself up.

“That was –” Spencer tried to begin as Hotch pulled off, visibly swallowing the remnants of Reid’s load as their eyes met again, Hotch’s bloodshot and his mouth swollen as he leant back on his feet, Reid’s eyes looking down at the older man with pure adoration and disbelief at how _fucking good_ he just made him feel.

Reid couldn’t help himself as he knelt down to Hotch, his trousers still bunched around his ankles as he grabbed him by the face and pressed their lips together, the slight taste of himself still on the older man’s tongue. The kiss was lazy and languid, the two of them revelling in the aftermath of their act as Reid tried to regain composure over his breathing, the older man drinking in as much of Reid as possible, filing this memory away in a mental filing cabinet for later use on lonely nights away.

“I told you you’re worthy, Spencer” Hotch hummed against his lips, using the tips of his fingers to caress the side of Spencer’s face, his fingers halting briefly as he stroked the tiny purple mark left behind his ear, the younger man’s hair only _just_ long enough to cover the bruised skin.

The little dove that was squawking in Reid’s mind began to restart its painful serenade once again as he came back to earth, his heart regulating it’s beating as he found himself fighting the _feelings._

Sometimes the things that make you fragile and vulnerable aren’t the ‘nasties’, but instead the nicest things in the world.

_Spencer was starting to worry that the walls he built weren’t strong enough to protect himself from everything._


	2. Vienna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reid still didn't understand the depth of their relationship, but Hotch was willing to hold Reid's hand right until Reid understood what this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bloody obsessed with this that I've already written the second chapter, oops! 
> 
> Chapter 3 is going to be a bit more of a tie-over and will provide a bit more BAU involvement, especially as these first two chapters have been mainly porn with a bit of plot, lol ♡

_Slow down you crazy child_

_You're so ambitious for a juvenile_

_But then if you're so smart tell me,_

_Why are you still so afraid?_

Reid found himself babbling about his reluctance to embrace modern technology in Hotch’s office past 10pm, the older man liqueur in hand as he listened to the younger profiler intently, smiling softly whenever Spencer tripped over his own words. Hotch was the only member of the team that didn’t tell Spencer to be quiet when he was rambling and going off on tangents. As per usual, Spencer remained oblivious to these little sentiments despite other members of the team commenting on this fact.

“But by not using email, I’m making my personal life harder to access, meaning that I am less vulnerable if an unsub decided to target _us_ ” Reid babbled, pacing the office and emphasising his statement with hand movements; “Garcia fails to recognise that she makes herself vulnerable by living a ‘real’ life and a cyber life. She could get really hurt if an attacker with similar skills decided to target her!”

Hotch nodded in acknowledgement as Reid continued to ramble on about the vulnerabilities of cyberspace, the young profiler continuing to pace the room as his thoughts tumbled from his lips at a thousand miles an hour.

If anyone else were in the room, Hotch’s adoration for Reid would be apparent just from the look on the older man’s face. Leaning back in his leather chair, his legs casually crossed as he held his glass of whisky atop his knee, Hotch watched Spencer as intently as an unsub watches his prey, his eyes trained on the soft features of the younger man’s face. Hotch was barely listening to the words leaving Spencer’s mouth, instead he simply nodded along as he watched the young profiler pace his office, admiring the slim frame of Spencer wander around his room as though chasing his own thoughts.

Hotch loved when Spencer rambled – despite often struggling to keep up with what the younger man was saying. Hotch sometimes found himself feeling inferior to Spencer despite being his superior. Spencer’s vast knowledge of criminal behaviour was something even Hotch would never attain, the boy’s ability to process and retain information enviable by all members of the team.

The main reason Hotch loved when Spencer rambled was because the younger man was completely unaware that he was being _ravished_ by Hotch’s gaze, the older man finding a heat rising in his gut as he watched Spencer occasionally wet his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed looking remarkably similar to when he had Hotch’s cock teasing the back of his throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Spencer broke Hotch from his daze, the older man blinking and sitting forward in his chair as the young profiler caught him off-guard, having stopped his pacing and now stood in front of Hotch’s desk with his eyebrows raised at his superior.

“Like what?” Hotch tried to lie, regretting his decision immediately when he saw Spencer roll his eyes.

“Like you can see right through me” Spencer mused, sitting down in the chair on the other side of Hotch’s desk, the mahogany furniture separating them acting as neutral ground.

Hotch struggled to find a response to Spencer’s bold statement, diverting his eyes to the whisky he was swirling in his glass, watching the tan liquid circle the remaining ice cubes.

“I just, like to hear how passionate you are about everything without Morgan or Prentiss telling you to be quiet” Hotch replied, casting his eyes back to Spencer’s Hazel ones, the younger man blinking as though waiting for Hotch to finish whatever he was trying to say.

“They would tell you to ‘slow down, crazy child’, but I think your commitment to the social sciences shows how ambitious and intelligent you are” Hotch continued, followed by a large gulp of the cold liqueur; “I like hearing you talk about Sociological theory and your ideas about the world. You are exceptionally intelligent, Spencer, and it makes you very unique.”

Spencer wasn’t really one for receiving compliments, so the younger profiler diverted his gaze from the older man as a bright crimson flooded his cheekbones, the colour spreading down his pale neck as embarrassment took over most of his being.

“If I’m so smart, why am I so afraid of everything?” Spencer mumbled almost inaudibly had the older man not being listening so intently for a response; “I sometimes think that my passion for knowledge and ability to _think_ means that my brain never _shuts up_ ” he continued, shuffling in his seat and running a hand through his hair as he tried to get comfortable. The room suddenly felt very hot and Spencer felt a little on the spot, especially after admitting his generalised fear of nearly _everything_.

“Unfortunately, intelligence often comes at a price, Spence” Hotch started, pushing himself off of his chair and walking to the front of his desk, leaning on the mahogany surface as he placed himself between the desk and the younger man.

“I think the thing what makes you so remarkable is also your curse” he continued, “Whilst your ability to memorise and recall makes you so exceptional at your job, it means that you cannot forget the things that scare or hurt you. Most of us can compartmentalise our fears and anxieties and try to leave them at the front door, but I don’t believe you’re able to do that, are you?”

Reid shook his head as though to say ‘no, I fucking can’t’, causing Hotch to move forward and gently run his fingertips down Reid’s cheek and jaw, the slight amount of whisky in his system meaning professionalism was entirely forgotten. But then again, how is sleeping with one of your SSA’s particularly professional?

“After what happened with Gideon, y’know when I drove out to his cabin?” Spencer began, “I felt the same kind of abandonment as when my father left” he swallowed, choking back the tears beginning to well in the corner of his eyes.

“That’s completely understandable, Reid” Hotch spoke softly, “Being abandoned by a key parental figure at such a young age, especially having to adjust to being alone with a schizophrenic mother, is going to have shaped your perception of abandonment, fragility, and even loss” Hotch continued, squatting down in front of Spencer so their faces were perfectly aligned.

“I don’t want to be scared anymore” Reid whimpered, a tear rolling down his face only to be caught by the brush of Hotch’s thumb on his cheek.

“I know you don’t, and we can try to work on this together, okay?” Hotch reassured, the hand that caught the tear on Reid’s cheek now settled on his jaw, the younger profiler keening into the touch; “I want you to know I’ll never leave you Spencer. It will take time for you to believe that, I know, but I will be waiting right here when you’re ready.”

Spencer looked into the face of the older man, his eyes scanning the worried features of Hotch’s face, his heart aching as the little dove once again cried inside him, screaming at him to run away before he gets hurt.

Slamming his lips against Hotch’s, Spencer retaliated against the internal dove, suffocating it’s cries as he swallowed it down, clipping its wings with each exhale against the older man’s plump lower lip.

“I just want it all to go away” Spencer whimpered helplessly against Hotch’s lips, the older man pulling his slender frame into his safe embrace, his arms circling Reid’s waist as he pulled him ever closer.

“It won’t go away, Spencer, but you’ll learn to live with it” Hotch posed, pressing firm kisses down the expanse of the younger man’s neck, grazing his teeth over the pounding artery underneath his supple skin, Spencer keening into Hotch’s touch as he fought to keep his internal dove from crawling back up his throat and into his _fucked-up_ mind.

“I can’t do it without you, Aaron” Spencer cooed as Hotch spun them around, Reid’s ass seated firmly on the dark wood desk, the older man pressing himself into the small gap created in-between Reid’s thighs.

“You don’t have to” Hotch reassured, his hands running underneath the back of Reid’s shirt, his calloused, firm hands skimming the expanse of the young man’s back, goosebumps rising in their wake; “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, _I promise_.”

Reid’s brain started to fog over, his mind entirely occupied with thoughts of Hotch: how the heat of his hands felt as they scanned the expanse of his back, how his chest pressed firmly against Spencer’s, how his lips crashed into Spencer’s in a desperate attempt to convey his love for the younger man.

“Hotch, please” Spencer whimpered against his lips, his crotch bucking forward looking for some friction; just something to relieve the throbbing of his dick and the voices in his head.

“What do you want, Spencer?” Hotch mused, breaking their kiss to remove Reid’s white shirt and sweater vest, his lips reattaching to the younger man’s neck, kisses pressed firmly to Reid’s jugular as the younger man’s eyes fluttered close.

“I don’t know, Hotch, I don’t know” Reid panted, his breath caught in his throat, slightly choked sounds sneaking through his hung-open mouth.

“What about this?” Hotch teased, his hand rubbing Reid through his rather ghastly beige suit trousers, the younger man clutching Hotch’s shoulders like a buoy in the ocean, his nails sore from the anxiety induced chewing.

Reid dropped his head to Hotch’s shoulder, resting his forehead on the strong frame of the older man, his eyes fluttering open and closed as Hotch continued to palm him through his pants, his hand tightening and then loosening his grip around the outline of Reid’s cock.

“Yeah, that could work” Reid gasped, his teeth sinking into the small space between Hotch’s neck and his collarbone, the older man tightening his grip around Reid’s length, still trapped in the confines of his work trousers.

“So you’re telling me you have a fear of the internet, but you’ll happily come in your pants in your boss’ office?” Hotch teased, plucking open the button on Reid’s fly and painfully slowly pulling down the zipper. “You make no sense sometimes, Spencer Reid, but _Jesus Christ_ I wish you should see yourself right now, you’re a mess.”

Spencer knew he was a mess, he could feel himself completely falling apart at the seams just from his boss palming him through his briefs, but he wasn’t going to ask Hotch to stop anytime soon, his breathing caught in his throat as his head continued to hang limply on Hotch’s shoulder, the older man breathing against the shell of his ear.

“What would the team say if they saw you like this Spencer, hm? What would they say if they saw how _filthy_ you are for me?” Hotch whispered hotly into Reid’s ear, the younger profiler whimpering as he imagined how _fucking embarrassed_ he would be. Prentiss would laugh to the point of crying, JJ and Garcia joining in the hystericizes fairly quickly. Oh my god what would Derek say? How fucking _pathetic_ would he think Reid was, about to come in his pants just from Hotch’s palming and filthy words in his ear?

Something about those thoughts made Reid’s cock pulse in Hotch’s grip and a choked moan to leave his lips, the older man now having slipped his hand into Spencer’s briefs, a wet patch already forming on the flimsy fabric where precum was leaking from his cock like a pathetic teenage boy.

“Would you like to be watched, Spencer?” Hotch continued to tease, Reid’s cheeks a bright crimson as he whimpered in response, no words needed with the choked sounds leaving the young profiler’s lips; “’Cause I’m sure we could arrange that” Hotch continued, his hand now jerking Reid’s cock at quite a pace, the younger man slumped between the mahogany desk and his superior’s body, Hotch’s pace relentless as he sought Reid’s climax.

“Maybe next time we’re out as a team, in a shitty nightclub somewhere, we’ll all be sat in a booth and my hand will be on you, the team completely oblivious to the fact that you’re about to _come in your pants_ ” Hotch continued, Spencer completely overwhelmed by the fact that the filthy words leaving Hotch’s sacred mouth were almost enough to make him cum even if Hotch _didn’t_ have a hand on him.

“Oh my god” Spencer whined, his teeth sinking firmly into Hotch’s shoulder through his shirt, saliva almost pouring out of Reid’s mouth as he gasped, choked and almost _sobbed_ like the desperate individual he was; “Hotch please, I’m gonna come, _fuck”._

Hotch didn’t need to verbalise a response, his hand slicked up with Reid’s precum completely worshipping his cock as he tugged harder and tighter, desperate to see Spencer’s face when he came in his pants, hot and sticky like a teenage boy having his first wet dream.

“I want to see your face, Spencer” Hotch hummed, his free hand clasping Reid’s jaw and directing his face so their foreheads pressed together, Reid’s clammy skin and sweat-slicked hair pressed against Hotch; “I wanna’ see you come.”

Spencer barely heard those words as the blood pounded in his ears, expletives pouring from his mouth uncontrollably as he came _hard_. The mixture of Hotch’s words, his eyes looking straight into Spencer’s and the consistent firm strokes of his throbbing cock were the necessary combination for Spencer to go limp in his superior’s arms, his cock kicking in his pants as he fought to keep his eyes open.

In Reid’s post-orgasm daze, Hotch used the grip on Spencer’s jaw to pull him into a desperate kiss, starting at his plump lips before scattering kisses on his cheeks, eyelids, nose, neck and throat, the kisses almost involuntary as he held Spencer post-climax, pulling him close and showering him with affection.

Spencer finally caught his breath, the kisses scattered over his face and neck causing him to giggle, his hand seeking Hotch’s to hold tightly whilst in his warm embrace, his thoughts collecting and mind refocusing, his ability to kiss Hotch back finally returning.

“Jack’s away tonight, isn’t he?” Spencer hummed beneath Hotch’s lips, the older man finally deciding that he had scattered enough kisses, his hands now sitting round Reid’s waist in a loose embrace, making sure not to overwhelm the younger man with too much physical contact (for someone who coped rather well with having his dick touched, Spencer wasn’t one for physical contact _outside_ of sexual intimacy.)

“Yeah, he’s with Jessica for the night, I knew today was going to be full on for me” Hotch nodded, slightly confused as to why Spencer was asking such domestic questions after just having his dick touched and filthy words poured into his ears.

“Do you want to, um, stay at mine for a change?” Reid posed, nervously biting the nails on his left hand before Hotch swatted it out of his mouth and snuck his fingers in-between Reid’s.

Hotch knew that, whilst this appeared an innocent question, Spencer was taking a huge step by allowing Hotch into his home, the boundaries between work, personal life, and love life becoming increasingly blurred. Whilst this was a big step for Reid, Hotch couldn’t remember the last time he stayed away from home other than for work since Haley died, his heart pounding as he suddenly realised he wouldn’t have his usual homely comforts. _‘Reid isn’t the only one allowed to be nervous_ ’ he thought.

Hotch suddenly realised he had taken far too long to answer that question when Reid began: “You don’t have to, I just thought –”

“I’d love to, Spence” Hotch rushed, interrupting the younger man as he finally decided that he needed to be the brave one in this ‘relationship’, Spencer was already wildly out of his comfort zone and he needed to be the one to ease his anxieties, especially if whatever _this_ was was going to continue.

Spencer visibly relaxed with Hotch’s response, taking a deep breath and allowing a small smile to tease the corner of his lips. “We can come in separately so the others don’t start asking questions, if you like?” Spencer uttered as he untangled himself from their embrace to find his shirt and vest, his little dove panicking a little in his stomach as he imagined walking through the door together, Hotch in the same clothes as he wore the previous day – something he _never_ did.

“It’s not that I don’t want to walk in together, Spencer, it’s just – I think we need to figure out what this is first before we let the others get involved” Hotch said, offering Reid a gentle smile as he helped the younger man fasten up the last few buttons of his shirt. “Not only that, there’s the ethical issue of what we’re doing too. I don’t want to freak you out Spencer, but this is all very new for me too, so there’s going to be some hurdles that I’ve not taken on before.”

Reid’s anxiety started kicking in a little more with that, especially when he tried to tuck in his dress shirt and remembered the sticky load still in his briefs, his stomach churning a little at the thought of someone seeing him walk the corridors of the BAU with Hotch, his come still slightly visible on his trousers.

“But don’t panic” Hotch tried to reassure Reid when he saw the younger profile begin to bite his nails again, diverting his attention away from Hotch as though his thoughts were rattling round in his big old brain at a thousand miles an hour; “It doesn’t need to be stressful or difficult, we can have a chat about it when we’re back at yours, okay?”

Hotch took the last few steps towards Reid as he pried his nails from the younger man’s mouth, linking their hands together and rubbing his thumbs over the back of Reid’s hands in an attempt to soothe him, Reid instinctively using Hotch’s breathing as a means to calm his own, their breaths in unison as the younger profiler managed to calm himself down.

Hotch seemed to have this miraculous effect on Reid: the ability to calm him down with only the _slightest_ of touch, always conscious that Reid is not one for physical contact. His thumbs brushing the back of Reid’s palms acting as a time-signature for the chaos that was the music in Reid’s head, his bold brown eyes looking into Reid’s hazel ones, the older man’s soft gaze tackling the little dove that was squawking, crying, _screaming_ even, in Reid’s mind.

“Okay, we can do this” Reid nodded, a boldness rising in his chest with the way Hotch looked at him, the confidence infectious as he raised Hotch’s right hand to his mouth, kissing his fingers softly before detaching their hands, Reid deciding that if he grabbed all his stuff _really quickly_ , he wouldn’t have chance to change his mind about Hotch staying the night.


	3. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch and Reid are struggling to keep their relationship under-wraps, especially when Spencer let's his eyes wander when working a case. Hotch isn't just hurt, he's struggling with a bit of heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is half the length of the first two as it is mainly a scene-setting chapter! It was nice to write a few more scenes of BAU family involvement! ♡
> 
> Loosely based on Season 6 | Episode 8 "Reflection of Desire". The plot isn't exactly like the episode as I needed to adapt the story for my plot, but I couldn't help but be inspired by the part where Hotch says: "“Well, standing in the middle gawking at passing women would certainly attract attention, just like you're doing now” ♡
> 
> The next chapter will be published really soon too!

Hotch walked into the office with purpose, his demeanour strong, confident, and unwavering as per usual, despite wandering in with exactly the same clothes on as yesterday. He could feel his team begin to _profile_ him as soon as he walked through the double doors and into the BAU, Rossi and Morgan’s eyes intently scanning him from head to toe, attempting to be subtle but clearly failing.

“Nice outfit, Aaron” Rossi smirked, walking up so they were face-to-face as he handed Hotch some case files, Hotch struggling to maintain composure, fighting his biological instinct to flush the brightest colour of red ever discovered.

“You can all divert your attention to your case files instead of at my lack of outfit change” Hotch said sternly, his voice unwavering and body language assertive; “Unlike you lucky individuals, I spent the night in my office communicating with the D.C Police about a woman who is missing in Georgetown. Oh, and before I forget, get your go bags, we’re leaving as soon as Reid decides to show up” he scolded, rather convincingly if he did say so himself.

Prentiss eyed Morgan with a slight smirk and a raise of her eyebrows, the other agent mirroring her expression as they decided to go to the conference room and prepare for the pre-flight briefing, bumping into one another in a teasing manner as though to say ‘ _what the fuck is up with him?_ ’. Rossi clapped Hotch on the shoulder as he walked past to join the team, Hotch clearly failing to convince Rossi that his outfit story is true – _fucking Rossi being a fucking know-it-all_.

Hotch decided to make the last few steps to his office in order to hide the crimson that was slowly making its way up his neck and onto his cheeks: Hotch wasn’t one for showing emotion, especially embarrassment. He sighed as he rustled around in his office, memories of Reid now imprinted on nearly every piece of furniture: Reid coming in his pants against his desk, Reid sucking Hotch’s cock whilst pressing him against the window and blinds, Reid kissing Hotch’s cheek softly as he left the office to get them coffee.

Grabbing his go-bag from the cupboard along with various notes and case files they would need on the flight, Hotch picked up his things and left his office, slamming the door slightly louder than necessary and locking it, turning around in a huff before seeing Reid walk through the entrance doors.

Hotch couldn’t stop his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Spencer walking into the office, a smile _so_ wide on his face you’d have thought he’d won the _goddamn lottery_. His hair bounced gently on the back of his neck as he almost skipped into the conference room, shooting Hotch a toothy grin on his way past before taking his seat at the table as though he wasn’t late for work – for the first time ever.

Hotch was starting to think that too many ‘first times’ were happening today. His chocolate-box life was starting to melt a little and seep through the cracks, his walls starting to crumble slightly every time he saw Spencer smile at him at work, kiss him in the doorway, or when he lets Hotch fuck him into his pristine white sheets until 3am.

These thoughts and images of Spencer were becoming increasingly invasive, Hotch finding himself staring at Spencer for minutes on end from his desk, his eyes trained through the gaps in the blinds to focus on the younger man, watching his eyes glow and his body language become increasingly excited as he spoke about something he was passionate about. He hated it when Spencer got told to be quiet, the young profiler blushing and folding in on himself, the sparkle falling from his eyes like a bit of his soul being ripped away. The others never meant to hurt him when they told him to quieten down, it was normally just that Spencer was rambling about something only vaguely relevant to the topic being discussed.

Hotch blinked aggressively to draw himself form his thoughts, grabbing his things from his feet and walking purposefully into the conference room, avoiding eye contact with everyone so as not to just be avoiding Spencer. The team quietened down to a gentle hush, watching Hotch sit at the table as he handed out the original email he received from D.C police.

“Kelly Landis, who had been missing for three days, was found dead in a back alley in Georgetown yesterday” Hotch started, handing out the pre-crime photo of the young blonde, his team’s eyes trained on the picture. “Although the D.C. police don't connect her death to any other murders, they called us in because of what was done to her” Hotch continued, handing out the post-crime photo to his team, watching as Prentiss recoiled in disgust and Garcia drew in a harsh breath.

“What is it?” asked Garcia, reaching her neck to try and see what the other members of the team had in front of them.

“They’ve removed her lips” Reid whispered, his eidetic memory once again becoming a curse when he realised he would likely see this image when trying to fall asleep.

“Oh my god” squealed Garcia, suddenly regretting her decision to join them on this case.

“Maybe a trophy?” stated Rossi, spinning his pen between his fingers to help him concentrate.

“Maybe he ate them?” Reid queried, making the strange decision to start eating his croissant as he said so.

“Okay, now I have that memory burned in my mind for the rest of my life” Garcia complained, rubbing her temples and blinking in an instant attempt to remove that thought.

“You asked!” Spencer defended, swallowing the last few mouthfuls of his croissant and shaking the crumbs off his knitted sweater and on to the floor.

“The other difficult factor to control is that this unsub wants to be famous, and he’s bypassing the police in order to do this” Hotch began, handing out a print from a Georgetown paper, “He sent a photograph of Kelly to one of the Georgetown area newspapers rather than sending it to the police, causing us a few press issues when we arrive. Garcia, I want you to handle these upon our arrival” he ordered, Garcia beginning to protest until Hotch shot her a knowing look, the tech-analyst sitting back in her seat and stopping her protest.

“Seeing as we’re all here and briefed, shall we get going?” Prentiss spoke-up, Morgan already rising from his seat and stuffing his briefing papers into his go-bag.

The team nodded in response, rising from their seats and getting ready to go, each of them taking a deep breath as they grabbed their go-bags, preparing themselves for whatever met them on the other side of the flight.

-

After revisiting the crime scene and the morgue shortly after their arrival, the team gathered back at D.C headquarters to deliver their profile. Derek gives the local fuzz a rundown on the team's profile: they're looking for a white male -- a loner -- in his 40s.

“We have theorised that because the original victim was missing for three days, the killer might be staging his murders like a play or film -- in three acts” Hotch began, emphasising his point with hand movements as they began to deliver their profile to the police.

“The first day is the first act, the second day is when the photo is dropped off at the newspaper, and the third day is when the girl is killed” Rossi continued.

“If that is the case, then the most recent kidnapping victim, who's photo was just delivered to the newspaper, might not have more than 24 hours left to live” Morgan finished, emphasising to the police that they needed to be acting fast.

-

Hotch, Prentiss and Reid were at the train station where they had watched security footage where the last victim was followed by a man. Hotch re-winded the video and analysed the time stamps, realising that the man had been sitting there with his back to the camera for _more than three hours_.

“This train station has three exits: north, south and west. You're here to target a woman, but you don't want to attract attention” he began to theorise, all three agents looking around to try and understand how you would hide in such a public place.

Hotch couldn’t help the jealousy that rose in his throat when he saw Spencer’s eyes trained on various attractive women walking past them in the station, the younger profiler being rather obvious with where his eyeline was: namely looking at women’s asses.

“Well, standing in the middle gawking at passing women would certainly attract attention, just like _you're_ doing now” Hotch almost spat out, diverting his gaze towards Spencer in an attempt to make the younger man feel small, embarrassed, and stupid for ogling women like meat at a deli-counter.

“What?” Spencer dazed, drawing his eyes from the attractive brunette that just sauntered past him to look at his superior, regretting his decision _immediately_ as Hotch scolded him simply with his gaze, Spencer flushing an immediate shade of red, his heart in his throat at the thought that Hotch was upset with him.

“Just like that, an IQ of 187 is slashed to 60” Prentiss teased, walking away from the two men as she went to get a better look at the South exit, convinced that the street parking there would offer a decent opportunity for the unsub to get his victim into his car.

“I was just looking, it didn’t mean anything Hotch, I –” Spencer began to protest, tripping over his words as he desperately tried to justify his slight wandering eye.

“It’s fine Spencer, I knew you didn’t feel the same way about me anyway” Hotch stated sternly, attempting to hide any trace of devastation from his voice as he began to walk away from the younger profiler.

“Hotch please, you know I care about you” Spencer babbled desperately, grabbing the older man’s wrist to pull him back, his hazel eyes beginning to glaze over as he realised how _stupid_ he was for even looking at the brunette walking past – she had _nothing_ on Hotch.

“Don’t cause a scene, _Reid_ , we have a job to do” Hotch continued with the fake bravado, his heart shattering inside his chest as he called Spencer by his last name, immediately putting professionalism between them.

Spencer had _really_ fucked up this time.


	4. Loving You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer finally confronts his feelings for Hotch; not necceserily out of choice, but out of need. With this little dove finally allow himself to find his home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I can't belive I've written two chapters in a day, I am officially obsessed ahhh. I hope you all love this chapter, it was my favourite to write by an absolute mile! ♡

“So, we’re well on our way to catching the unsub, but for now, please get a few hours rest so we can be on our best form tonight. I need you all focused, slightly rested, and ready to start again at midnight” Hotch stated in his usual firm tone, his gaze casting over every member of the team except Reid.

Hotch was the first to leave the evening briefing in the lobby, heading straight to his room that was a few corridors over from the rest of the team, his desperate need for some space and time to _breathe_ becoming more apparent as he stood in the elevator, his heart _aching_ at the thought of Spencer staring so blatantly at the two brunettes in the train station.

As he stood in the elevator, he released a big sigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he dropped his head back gently against the metal wall. He couldn’t let his emotions ruin the case – he needed to pull himself together before they reconvened in the lobby in just over two hours.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator on the 9th floor he was met with an out-of-breath Spencer Reid, clearly having run up the several flights of stairs, eyes blown wide like a puppy as he saw Hotch between the open doors.

“Hotch, I need to talk to you, please” Spencer began, the older man walking straight past him, pulling his key-card out of his pocket in preparation to open the door to his room. Spencer jogged gently to catch up – he was not letting Hotch get away that easily.

“It’s going to have to wait, Reid” Hotch scolded, walking into his room and trying to close the door on Reid, the younger profiler finding some physical strength to fight the door and pry his way into the room with Hotch, the two men looking at each other intently.

Hotch had to swallow the anger rising in his throat at Reid’s determination to have this conversation _whether Hotch wanted to or not_.

“First of all, can you stop fucking calling me ‘Reid’” Spencer grew irritated, “You’ve not called me by my last name for two months and eight days” his hands balled into fists at his sides as he spat the words at his superior, his chest rising and falling with frustrated breaths.

Hotch didn’t speak in response, instead choosing to roll his eyes and walk away from the younger man, dropping his bags on the bed and beginning to unpack his toiletries with his back to Spencer.

“Hotch, will you _fucking_ listen to me!” Reid almost shouted, the older man spinning around to face him again with a face like thunder, Reid’s impatience clearly igniting a rise from Hotch. Reid had to swallow down his submissive side, choking down his little dove as he prepared himself to give Hotch a piece of his mind.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Reid” Hotch said very sternly, almost warning Spencer with his tone of voice.

“I don’t give a shit as to whether you want to talk about it now” Reid began, somehow managing to keep his voice level and fairly stern despite his nerves kicking in, “We need to talk, and we’re going to do it _now_.”

Hotch continued to direct his angry expression towards Reid as he released a big sigh, trying to calm himself down before he said something to Reid that he would almost _definitely_ regret. “Fine” he spat out, glaring at Reid from several feet away.

Reid took a deep breath before beginning to speak, trying to collate his thoughts so that his speech made sense.

“I’m sorry I looked at those girls in the train station, Aaron, but you have to believe me when I say it meant _absolutely nothing_. At the end of the day, you _haven’t made me yours yet_ , so how the _fuck_ am I supposed to know what the boundaries are!?” he spoke, his voice slightly raised but not aggressive or shouting, instead more fuelled by desperation.

“I haven’t made you mine yet? I – _fucking hell_ Spencer, I know you can be oblivious but I never had you down for downright stupid” Hotch proclaimed, his words cutting like a knife as he unintentionally tried to get a rise from the younger man.

“Oh, go on then Hotch, enlighten me!” Reid spat, stepping closer to the older man in some attempt to intimidate him and show how _fucking angry_ he was.

“You’ve let me fuck you on nearly _every_ surface in my office. You’ve stayed in my _bed_ and in my house with my _son_ several times. I leave some form of mark _every single time_ I fuck you, in a desperate attempt to claim you despite not being able to!” Hotch began, stepping closer to the younger profiler once again, using his height and demeanour to demonstrate that he was in control here. “I want nothing more than for you to be mine Spencer, but I’m sorry I can’t do that in a conventional sense. If you hadn't noticed, I’m your _fucking boss_ and I have professional guidelines I have to abide by. I love you more than anything, but I can’t lose my job over us.”

Spencer stood there, his face mere inches from the older man’s, the wind almost completely knocked out of him as it _all started to make sense_.

Spencer suddenly felt like a _fucking idiot_ , his brain exploding with thoughts and memories of each time Hotch had sucked or bitten a mark into his skin, the way the older man secretly brushed his knuckles against the back of Spencer’s hand underneath the table at team dinners, the countless times he had tucked Jack into bed before climbing into Hotch’s sheets.

“Oh my god” Spencer whispered, his hands flying to his hair as he turned around, pacing around for a few seconds before turning to his superior, his eyes desperate – pleading almost – before he took the last few steps towards Hotch. “I’m so fucking stupid, oh my god Hotch, I – I can’t even begin to say how sorry and stupid and –”

Hotch grabbed Spencer’s face, crashing their lips together before Spencer could say another word, before one of them said something to make this even more awkward and ridiculous.

Spencer allowed Hotch to slip his calloused hands into the loose curls at the back of his neck, the younger man’s mouth opening just enough to let Hotch’s tongue slide into the wet cavern of his mouth, Spencer relaxing into his lover’s touch, his own hands clinging desperately to the sides of Hotch’s ribcage.

Hotch tried to convey every unsaid word through their kiss, his hands and lips desperate against Spencer’s, his body alight with every squeeze of Spencer’s hands, with every brush of their tongues, every whimper he manages to coax from the younger man’s mouth.

“You said you loved me” Spencer whispered against Hotch’s lips, the younger man moving to press kisses along Hotch’s defined jaw, his superior keening into the touch, his body aching for Spencer as though he was his lifeline.

“I did” Hotch confirmed, Spencer navigating his way down the side of Hotch’s neck, prying open the top few buttons of the older man’s shirt to allow him to press firm, open-mouthed kisses against his jugular and collarbones. “I meant it” Hotch tried to hold back the moan that tumbled from his lips without his permission, the soft noise only encouraging Spencer more.

That was all it took for Spencer’s confidence to blossom in his gut like a Daffodil in Springtime, a newfound determination to prove his commitment to Hotch.

Spencer took the initiative to walk Hotch back and onto the bed, the older man shocked by Reid’s confidence, taking the lead for the first time since ‘this’ began. Spencer didn’t join Hotch immediately on the bed, instead watching as the older man shuffled backwards to seat himself against the headboard, mouth slightly agape and swollen from the determined kisses.

Reid stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he stared Hotch in the face, the older man’s cock beginning to swell in his tight black trousers as Spencer took the time to unfasten his pristine white shirt and shrug it onto the floor, his hands now reaching towards the button and zipper on his trousers.

Hotch swallowed as he watched the younger man undress, their gaze unfaltering as the older man sat their dumbfounded, unsure whether to undress himself at the same time or whether to continue to sit there and drink in the current view of Spencer stripping, the intense eye-contact causing Hotch’s cock to finally rise to full attention.

“I know Morgan calls you ‘pretty boy’ as a nickname, but honestly, Spencer, you are the _prettiest_ thing I’ve _ever_ fucking seen” Hotch spoke, his voice low and gruff, the lust apparent within every single word he spoke. The older man couldn’t help himself anymore, Spencer finally unzipping his pants and letting them slide down his legs and onto the floor, Hotch reaching down to palm at his cock that was now throbbing in the confines of his trousers.

Spencer – clad only in his mustard-coloured briefs – climbed onto the bed, approaching Hotch with their eye contact remaining unbroken, the younger man’s tongue popping out to swipe his own lower lip, catching the plump skin in his mouth as he crawled into Hotch’s lap.

Situated in Hotch’s lap, Spencer placed his hands firmly on Hotch’s shoulder, his forehead resting against the older man’s as he ground down, his little round ass and semi-hard cock grinding against Hotch’s fully erect member, a deep moan escaping Aaron’s mouth.

“Spence, please, you’re _killing me_ here” Hotch whined, attempting to kiss Reid’s lips, the younger man reacting by pulling his face away from the kiss, turning instead to bury his face in Hotch’s neck, nibbling the soft skin between his throat and collarbone.

“I want you to fuck me, just like this” Spencer purred, the filthy words leaving his lips entirely unexpected by Hotch, the older man bucking his hips up desperately for some friction against Spencer’s ass, the complete filth leaving Spencer’s mouth enough to make him come right here, not even buried in Spencer’s ass.

As much as Hotch would love to fuck Spencer like this, holding the younger man by his hips as he fucked Spencer until he couldn’t even _breathe_ , that wasn’t what this night needed.

Determined to regain control of the situation, Hotch used his strength to his advantage in this moment, a small Spencer squealing slightly as he found himself laid on his back all of a sudden, the older man situated firmly on top of Reid, a smirk on his lips as he looked down at his lover.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Spencer” Hotch hummed against the younger man’s throat, biting harshly against the aorta thumping at the bottom of Spencer’s supple neck.

Spencer let out an irritated sigh in response to Hotch’s statement, his hands clasped onto each of Hotch’s buttocks and pulling the older man’s hips down to meet Spencer’s desperate little thrusts, his cock now strained and almost _choked_ in his briefs.

Before Spencer could complain about the lack of fucking, Hotch sat up and removed the remaining articles of clothing, his tie loosened and thrown aimlessly in the hideously decorated hotel room, his shirt stripped from his shoulders and dropped behind him before he unzipped his trousers and screwed them up into a ball at the foot of the bed.

Spencer couldn’t stop himself from gawping at the perfect man on top of him, taking a moment to admire every crevice of Hotch’s hipbones, taking note of how flushed his pecks were, his darkened nipples hard with the brush of cold air he received after removing his shirt.

“You’re so beautiful” Spencer whispered as Hotch re-situated himself atop Reid’s body, their bodies morphing into one as their flushed chests pressed against one another, their legs tangled as the older man held himself up with his elbows, creating just enough space between their faces to press loving kisses to Spencer’s lips and cheeks.

“Says you” Hotch chimed back, earning a gentle giggle from Spencer which was shortly cut off by a gasping moan, Hotch grinding their hard cocks together, briefs being the only item of clothing left between them.

Hotch moved down Spencer’s body slowly, scattering kisses from the lobe of his ear down to his collarbones, nibbling briefly on the protruding bone before continuing to kiss down his torso, the younger man squirming beneath him as he grew desperate for some contact – he would take _literally anything_ from Hotch right now.

As he reached the hem of Spencer’s briefs, he looked up through his lashes to check for permission despite the fact that Spencer has never – and probably _will_ never – objected to Hotch removing his clothes. “So fucking good for me, Spencer” Hotch groaned hotly against Reid’s thighs, the younger man’s hands fisting the sheets below him as Hotch kissed, nipped and sucked ever closer to his cock, the head red with a drop of precum decorating his abdomen.

Hotch didn’t go for Reid’s cock, however, his hands pushing on the back of Reid’s thighs to coax his legs open, exposing his puckered hole. Spencer had completely melted into the sheets beneath him at this point, his body surrendering instinctively to the older man who was preparing to ravish his genius lover.

Spencer could barely breathe as Hotch breathed hotly against his hole, his hands continuing to fist and twist into the sheets as he sighed heavily, his breathing laboured, completely focused on every micro-movement Hotch made below him. Spencer was getting remarkably good at suffocating the squawking dove in his mind at this point, his mind focused entirely on Hotch, surrendering himself physically and mentally to the older man.

A breathy whimper escaped Reid as Hotch teased the puckered rim of his hole, the tip of his tongue dancing around the edge, occasionally dipping into the cavity. Hotch didn’t continue his teasing for long, hyperaware of the fact that Reid’s knuckles were white against the sheets as he desperately fought the desire to buck into Hotch’s face.

“Oh my god, _Aaron_ ” Spencer whimpered as the older man buried his tongue into Reid’s hole, obscene noises echoing in the room as Hotch began to completely ravish the young genius, saliva coating his chin and beginning to slip between Reid’s crack and onto the bedding.

Right now, Hotch wanted nothing more in the world than to make Reid feel _fucking amazing_ , his entire being focused on the young profiler that was now writhing underneath him, Hotch sliding his left arm around Reid’s thigh, sitting his forearm heavily across the younger man’s abdomen in an attempt to keep him still. He wasn’t particularly succeeding, however, a desperate Reid becoming remarkably strong when he wanted Hotch’s tongue to _fuck him harder_.

His left hand still slewn over Reid’s hips, Hotch stuck two digits of his right hand into Reid’s mouth, the younger man moaning hotly as he sucked on the digits, Hotch’s cock twitching between his own legs at the _filthy_ sight of Spencer preparing his fingers for his ass.

Reid desperately tried to lift his head up, wanting to see exactly how much of a fucking mess he was for Hotch right now, but his body rendered itself useless, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of the first finger slipping easily into the saliva-slicked hole, hooking and curving gently to open up ready for Hotch. His head remained flat on the bed, his hips still slightly bucking as his hard cock was being neglected in this current position, his eyes uncontrollably flickering between open and closed.

“That’s it, Spence, you’re doing _so_ good for me, so, so good” Hotch hummed, his tongue moving from Spencer’s hole and licking a firm stripe from the base to the tip of his cock as though he had read Reid’s mind, suddenly conscious that his lover’s cock was leaking precum all over his pale abdomen. “You gonna take another one for me?” Hotch groaned before sliding in the second digit, Reid’s hole opening easily as the older man continued to twist and gently curl, coaxing Reid’s body to relax, the two digits moving slowly inside the younger man.

Spencer felt like his body was on _fire_ ; his cheeks, neck and chest flushed the brightest of red, his cock desperately seeking some attention from the older man, his hips involuntarily bucking as waves of pleasure took over his slender frame, his body working entirely on instinct and moving almost uncontrollably. Spencer had never felt _so safe_ despite being _completely_ out of control.

“Hotch please, please – I’m ready, _oh my god_. I don’t care how pathetic it sounds; I need you” Spencer whined, his thoughts and speech disconnected and barely coherent, his body throbbing – aching, in fact – for Hotch to be inside him. And who was Hotch to deny him such a pleasure?

Hotch removed the digits he had buried in Reid’s ass, the younger man whining at the lack of fullness before the head of Hotch’s cock teased his hole, rubbing over the puckered rim as he spat onto his cock, Spencer finding that action _far_ too attractive. Hotch shuffled so that he was laid on top of Reid, his larger frame bracketing in the young profiler, his elbows either side of Reid’s head as he positioned himself against Reid’s hole, the younger man’s feet wrapping loosely behind Hotch’s knees.

“I love you, Spencer Reid” Hotch whispered against Spencer’s lips, catching his lower lip between his teeth as Spencer grabbed the base of Hotch’s cock, guiding him past the tight rim and deep inside him, every inch of his body _burning_ as he adjusted to Hotch’s dick buried inside him.

Hotch didn’t even need to _say_ he loved him: Spencer already knew it. From the moment he walked into the BAU several years ago, when Haley was still alive, Hotch had always protected Reid like a fragile baby bird, training him and guiding him into becoming the agent his is today. Hotch had loved Reid in a different way all those years ago, loving him as a protector and a mentor. Neither of them would be able to pinpoint _exactly_ when the nature of their relationship changed, but the love they had for one another in this very moment was serene, unconditional, and all-encompassing.

“You’re mine, Spencer” Hotch hummed, their foreheads pressed together, sweaty and heavy, Hotch continuing to delve inside the younger man, Reid’s hole welcoming every thrust, praise tumbling from his lips every time Hotch’s cock grazed the right place.

“All yours, every single bit of me – it’s _yours_ ” Reid whimpered, his cock trapped between their bodies, leaking hotly against his stomach as he took every single thrust the older man gave him. Reid had never particularly enjoyed the idea of being ‘owned’, but that was _before_ Aaron Hotchner walked into his life and tore down every single barrier, every single measure Reid had put in place to protect himself.

Reid desperately pulled Hotch closer, incidentally creating a better angle for Hotch’s cock to reach deeper inside him, a choked moan escaping the younger man, his eyes flying open and staring directly into Hotch’s gaze as the older man realised he was finally reaching _all_ the right places. “You okay?” Hotch queried, seeking validation that he was hitting the right place and not hurting the young man beneath him. Hotch was rewarded with Reid reaching up and crashing their lips together, his feet hooked together against Hotch’s ass, burying Hotch inside him

“Only _you_ would ask if I was okay despite the fact that _I’m_ the one pulling you deeper” Reid gasped, earning a strained chuckle from the man above him as he continued to plough rhythmically into the young agent.

Reid kept one hand against Hotch’s cheek as the other snaked between their bodies, tugging desperately at his throbbing cock as he sought release, his entire body electrified as Hotch continued to fuck him _so_ well. Hotch’s hips began to falter slightly, his near-perfect rhythm varying in tempo as he fought off his release, desperate for Reid to come hot and heavy between them before he could even _consider_ letting himself come, his pride unwavering as he sought Reid’s climax.

“I’m so close, _please_ don’t stop” Reid whimpered, sweat beading on his forehead as Hotch watched him closely, trying to photograph this moment so he could relive it over and over again.

“I won’t” Hotch reassured, his cock beginning to twitch inside Spencer, desperate for his own release but biting it back, his nose buried against Reid’s neck, their skin hot as they remained flush against one another, moving as one. The hotel bed was squeaking but Hotch _didn’t fucking care_ , he wasn’t going to stop, even if Chief Strauss walked into the room.

Spencer came quickly, a broken cry leaving his lips as he came hot and thick between their bodies, the combination of Hotch’s thrusts and his body pressed against Spencer’s causing his come to spread everywhere, Hotch finding himself so _fucking_ turned on by the idea that he was covered in Spencer’s come.

 _Fucking hell_ , he really was a dirty bastard after all.

Fighting his post-orgasm daze, Spencer focused on helping Aaron finish, his hips pushing back to bury the older man even deeper inside him, if physically possible. He whimpered pathetically at the over-stimulation, his spent cock limp as desperately sought Hotch’s climax. He _wanted_ Hotch to come inside him; another sign of ownership marking the younger agent.

Reid verbalised his want to Hotch, feeling the older man get heavier on top of him as his thrusts faltered, groans tucked into the corner of Reid’s neck. “Come inside me, please” Reid almost begged, his submissive desperate to be marked by his lover, Hotch moaning hotly in response to Reid’s request.

Several thrusts later, Hotch came buried deep inside Reid, his elbows struggling to hold himself up any longer as his hips stalled against Reid’s, the two men spent, overwhelmed, and so _fucking in love_ it was almost pathetic.

Reid’s fingers danced up and down Hotch’s back as he soothed the older man through his orgasm, Hotch still buried deep inside the younger man post-climax, his body limp on the slim figure beneath him – so slim in comparison to Hotch, in fact, that he was struggling to breathe come to think of it.

Indicating that he wasn’t particularly comfortable, Reid tapped Hotch on the shoulders, the older man apologising as he rolled off and flopped down next to Reid, the younger man smiling dazedly at his superior, watching Hotch as the older man’s eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, his chest still heaving as he tried to come back from his release

Reid ran his fingers down the side of Hotch’s face, the older man opening his eyes and giving the young profiler a gentle smile, his hand coming to lie gently over Reid’s chest, his body completely spent after marking his lover, his seed slowly leaking out of Reid and onto the bed. Neither of the men cared at this moment in time, too trapped in their post-climactic daze, eyes fluttering open and closed as they looked at one another softly, small smiles and little giggles being enough said.

With only 45-minutes until they had to go, Spencer watched Hotch gently fall asleep, his arm heavy on Reid’s chest as he finally stopped fighting sleep. “I love you” Hotch mumbled, pulling Reid closer and nuzzling against the younger man’s neck.

Reid _finally_ knew where he truly belonged: in the arms of Aaron Hotchner.


End file.
